Records

Rip It Up, Issue 23, 1 June 1979, Page 14

Records

Tin Huey Contents Dislodged During Shipment Warner Brothers Akron, Ohio, is the place name to drop these days. Home of Devo and Rachel Sweet amongst others, it has been the birthplace of a (very) minor resurgence of American rock, Tin Huey included. Tin Huey, a six piece band of weirdos, come to you by way of Frank Zappa in their smart-ass lyrics and Hot Rats in miniature bizarro arrangements. These guys are more than capable and they seem bent on proving it as each song gets the busy treatment with crazy sax riffs, dopey tempo changes and general attempts at eccentricity that fail to make any impression. One or two saving graces turn up on their retread of Robert Wyatt’s droll master interpretation of “I’m A Believer”, and Harvey Gold must surely be proud of his excellent melody on the intro to "The Revelations of Dr. Modesto”. Elsewhere, Tin Huey, seem to be another musical novelty (like Devo) who have very little music of any lasting quality to offer. They appear to regard cleverness and unusual song formats as ends in themselves, and on Contents Dislodged During Shipment they fail to capitalise on the few clues that they do possess. George Kay

Average White Band Feel No Fret RCA It has been unfortunate for the Average White Band that they peaked so early. Their second album, the white AWB one, is now five years old, but remains a rock classic. One of the best soul records ever made, it has put everything else they have done into shadow. Feel No Fret should redress the balance. It marks a new creative step forward for AWB. The band has modified its sound, abandoning the punchy horn riffs and chattering rhythm guitars which were its signature in favour of a cooler, almost wistful sound, based on longer rhythmic lines. Where the fulcrum was once the staccato guitar of Onnie Mclntyre, it’s now the bass (whether played by Alan Gorrie or Hamish Stuart, both are very fine in their different styles) and an ample helping of percussion (Airto Moreira guesting). But as always the heart of AWB is the sublime vocals of Stuart and Gorrie. There should be a law against singers this good. Feel No Fret is an album on which it’s hard to find highlights (I might opt for the vocal interplay on "Atlantic Avenue") because it’s consistently excellent. Ken Williams

Mick Farren Vampires Stole My Lunch Money Logo Before the release of this album Mick Farren was best known as a writer with New Musical Express. No doubt the easy way out of the review would be to make a few cheap shots to the effect that he should have stuck to writing about rock’n’roll. Not only would that be unfair to someone in love with rock’n’roll for all the right reasons, but the fact is that Mick Farren has come up with a thoroughly likeable album. Knowing how it should be done may not be quite the same as being able to do it but it certainly means you can give a fair impression, especially when you're helped out by the likes of Wilko Johnson, Larry Wallis and Andy Colquhoun. When the pace slows the limitations of his rasping delivery become more apparent. If you hear the single "Half Price Drinks” on the radio and aren’t too impressed it’s only fair to point out that the faster stuff is better. Tracks like "I Don’t Want To Go This Way”, "People Call You Crazy” and "Fast Eddie” are Farren at his best. No one would call this album a world beater but there is some good listening to be found among the twelve tracks. Dominic Free

Cold Chisel Breakfast at Sweethearts Elektra I wasn’t impressed by the TV footage of these guys. They looked and sounded a lot like a second-rate Aussie hard rock outfit, churning out the cliches. Breakfast At Sweethearts was

at least a pleasant surprise. Which is not to say that the cliches are entirely absent. Jimmy Barnes’ grating vocals are all too familiar; white boy sings the blues and gets laryngitis. lan Moss' guitar playing is very competent, but does little more than recycle the standard blues licks, only faster. What saves their ass is the tunes. There are three or four good ones on the album, all by pianist Don Walker. "Merry Go Round" as a great last line to each verse, "Shippin' Steel" is a successful rock version of the standard trucker's lament, and the title track saves a mediocre pseudo-reggae verse with a melodic chorus. The band rocks hard enough for you not to notice the predictably sexist lyrics if they hadn’t printed them for you. If you are going to write songs about the same old situations, then you should at least find a new way of saying it. This is an album you should play loud at a party, when no one cares about the lyrics anyway. Can’t miss. You don’t need to be brilliant to be a good rock band, but of course, it wouldn’t hurt. John Malloy

Lene Lovich Stateless . N ■ Stiff ■ In showbiz everyone-has an image: Ted Nugent eats raw meat and becomes the Wild Man, Rachel Sweet is ripe and pubescent and Lene . Lovich is Stiff’s mysterioso Detroit refugee boasting a cosmopolitan background and (it seems) permanent plaits. Signed to Stiff last year along with Rachel Sweet and other hopefuls, Lovich exudes the commanding detached sophistication that has reaped rewards/dollars for Patti Smith,-but unlike Miss Smith, Lovich is aiming for a less esoteric, mannered effect. Stateless is a fine first album proving, quite obviously, - the guitarist Les Chappell can : write the ; instant melodic hook (try “Writing On the Wall” and "Too Tender") in suitable collaboration with LL’s brand of off-centre lyric. The non-originals, especially Nick Lowe’s “Tonight" and the Tommy James’ classic “I Think We’re Alone Now” are perfectly suited for Lovich’s . upset-intellectual-in-love-treatment. With competitors like the theatrically vulnerable Debby Harry on one hand and Patti “Rimbaud": Smith on the other, Lovich has to tread carefully to avoid unfavourable comparisons. Stateless proves that she is her own woman, and I hope she stays that way. George Kay

Chris Spedding Guitar Graffiti RAK I've always recommended Chris Spedding’s records to people should they ever ask. His two solo albums'prior to Guitar Graffiti are both about fifty percent real good with a couple of stand-out tracks on each "School Days” and "Silver Bullet" being favourites. ; ■ This new one doesn't strike me as being quite so impressive! As always there's a lot of nifty guitar work, straightforward, even classic rock'n'roll arrangements, the occasional naggingly effective hook and a lean, gritty production. This ■ time the' production is almost all Spedding’s own with only one track by his previous producer Chris Thomas. What’s lacking is good material. Spedding has never been particularly strong on lyrics while still managing to throw off an interesting line here and there, and most of his songs rely on his guitar work for their more arresting and memorable qualities. On this album the songs are thinner than usual and only the lead-off track "Video Life” sticks with me after several playings and the next best would be “Walking". Side Two starts off with ‘.‘Breakout’’ which is a fair sort of song, most of the rest is a series of strangely un-live . sounding live guitar solos divorced from their !.settings, and strung together as "Frontal Ldbotomy" and "More Lobotomy”. The side closes with a live version of "Breakout”. Maybe Side One will grow on me more. In the meantime I recommend - Guitar Graffiti only because Hurt and Chris Spedding are not readily available in these here parts. Terence HogangnfflKaflßNjg|SH^^^^9

Matumbi Seven Seals Harvest Set my people free ... We are heading for destruk-shon ... this is a bad situ-ashon ... Yes, Jah children, this is another reggae album, which is about all that can be said for it. Matumbi hail from Battersea in London, and have been performing for about eight years. The name is Nigerian, meaning "Born Again.” British reggae is notoriously erratic in quality,

its peak so far being Steel Pulse’s sublime Handsworth Revolution.

Matumbi, despite capturing numerous awards, seem to stumble over every reggae cliche in the book. Their beat is unvaryingly pedestrian, and the lyrics, as shown earlier, say nothing that hasn’t already been thrashed to death. Glen "Bagga" Fagan, Glaister Venn, Webster Johnson and Dennis "Blackbeard” Bovell harmonise neatly. But it’s all precision and no fire. The songs are uniformly dull, the melodies too similar. Only "Empire Road", written for a TV series of the same name, has any spark to it. Their older material on the Trojan and Safari labels had a raw feel, but commercial success seems to have robbed them of their hgnger. When they sing about Soweto, they sound wellfed and complacent. Maybe they deliver more as a live band. Seven Seals just doesn’t have the hukas to lift it above the ordinary. Duncan Campbell

Peter Tosh Equal Rights CBS CBS have re-released this fine album at a time when Tosh is being seen on the screen courtesy of Mick Mouth and Rolling Stones Records. It’s good timing, and the record

deserves it. Equal Rights is Tosh’s second solo album after leaving the Wailers, and his voice is that of an angry man. / don't want no peace I want equal rights I want justice ... Every song has a strongly Rastafarian theme, and Tosh as always is committed and intense. The credits read like a who-ranks who Jamaican musicians and includes the übiquitous Robbie Shakespeare (bass) and Sly Dunbar (drums), the top rhythm section on the island. Carlie Barrett sits in, Al Anderson plays some hot leads, and Bunny Wailer (Bunny Livingstone) adds his backup vocals. Tosh plays his usual choppy rhythm guitar and dabbles in clavinet. The songs are good. “Equal Rights”, “Steppin' Razor”, and “I Am That I Am” are up to his best, and that means excellent. “Get Up Stand Up" is not up to his original version with the Wailers, but then, Marley can’t do it so well any more either. “Downpressor Man” is the gospel song "Sinner Man” given a Rasta twist, and showing the biblical roots of the movement. If you liked the TV clip, check this. Tosh's strong beliefs never once get in the way of making good music. You can dance to it. I'm like a steppin' razor, don't you Watch my size I'm dangerous... He means it. John Malloy